


Ocean Eyes

by Autobratty



Series: Medic Hot Rod AU [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cross-faction smooching, Fraternizing With the Enemy, M/M, Medic Hot Rod AU, Probably OOC but I honestly do not care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 04:32:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17994911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autobratty/pseuds/Autobratty
Summary: Deadlock takes an interest, and finds that the line between intrigue and attraction is thinner than he'd thought.





	Ocean Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> _I've been watching you for some time_  
>  _Can't stop staring at those ocean eyes_  
>  _Burning cities and napalm skies_  
>  _Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes_  
>  _Your ocean eyes_  
>  _I've never fallen from quite this high_  
>  _Falling into your ocean eyes_  
>  _Those ocean eyes_  
>  (Billie Eilish, “Ocean Eyes”)

The first time Deadlock spotted Hot Rod across the battlefield, his spark stopped, almost long enough for an enemy to get a hit on him.

Almost. Deadlock wasn’t one to let his guard down. But this mech, clearly an Autobot, had managed to catch his gaze long enough to be dangerous. He was wreathed in flames, seemingly emanating from his very frame, scalding his enemies, whom Deadlock didn’t try to identify, too mesmerized by the glorious display. Deadlock caught a glimpse of a medic’s cross on his chassis before he transformed, burning rubber through the wreckage, smoke billowing and embers kicked up in his trail.

Decades passed until Deadlock saw the mech again, this time carefully lifting a limp mech into his arms. His body not obscured by fire and at closer range, the Decepticon got a better look at him. And oh, he was glorious. A gold-and-scarlet-colored paint job, unusual for a medic, and the streamlined body of a sports car. Deadlock tried to tear his gaze away, but instead of turning away he found himself following the handsome mech and hid himself behind a boulder. All else melted away: the sounds of battle, the spilled energon on the ground, the discarded weapons, the bodies. He watched the medic lift the injured mech into a transport before running back out into the field.

Without any patients, Deadlock took it as his time to pounce. Had it been any other Autobot, they’d be dead, but some feeling in his gut that this one was more than meets the eye. Unfortunately for him, before he could move, Deadlock was caught in a sudden explosion, knocked forward by its force, his head smashing into the rock in front of him. His HUD fritzed and optical feed flickered before he swayed sideways, crashing down to the ground to raise a cloud of dust and ash.

When Deadlock woke, he was sure he must be dead, because leaning over him with a halo of unearthly radiance was the fire-colored Autobot medic, a pair of bright ocean eyes staring down into his own dim embers.

At first he couldn’t hear anything and simply blinked his eyes at the bright light, but as soon as his audials booted up with a terrible ringing, he knew that he was closer to hell than heaven.

Deadlock opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a bleat of static. He saw the medic’s lips move in a manner that he assumed was a request for him to be quiet, but the Decepticon couldn’t hear him over the ruckus, although it seemed to have faded a bit. He tried to move, but the Autobot brought a firm hand down against his chassis, the mech focused on a gash in his abdomen. This time, Deadlock heard him. “I said, be quiet and don’t move! Can’t you see I’m trying to help you?!” he hissed.

Vocalizer starting to boot up, Deadlock managed to croak out, “Why?”

Not looking up from the wound he was currently soldering, the medic said, “Your team. They’re retreating.” He glimpsed up briefly to a spot in the distance before resuming his work. “Leaving you behind.”

“What do you care?”

The Autobot finally looked up at him. Deadlock felt something stir inside him at the searching, penetrating gaze of those mesmerizing ocean eyes. “No one should be left to die, no matter their allegiance. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“Idealist,” Deadlock grumbled. “Gonna get yourself killed that way. Easy target.” Despite his words, he stopped struggling. The this mech had left himself wide open, and Deadlock knew that if he was going to kill him, he would’ve done it by now.

“There,” the medic huffed, leaning away and quickly stowing his tools. “That should do you enough to get back to your ship, but don’t exert yourself too much until you can get proper repairs.”

Deadlock huffed as he sat up, maybe a little too quickly, wincing as a sharp pain stabbed through his abdomen. Now upright, he could feel his head throbbing, and reached up to find that one of his finials had been severely damaged, bent and twisted. He grit his teeth in poorly concealed agony.

The red mech stood and reached a hand down to help Deadlock to his feet. “C’mon,” he said insistently. “You need to go. Now.”

The Decepticon weakly batted the proffered hand away and struggled to his feet by himself. Now upright, less than two feet away from the medic, Deadlock took a moment to size him up. He was small - not quite a minibot, but he only came to about Deadlock’s shoulder. His frame, despite scratches and dents, was stunning, the streamlined frame of a speedster. Something told him that this mech wasn’t forged to be a medic. Although he wouldn’t admit it, Deadlock was secretly grateful that he was.

Now that he was repaired enough to at least stand, Deadlock figured that he could still blast through the mech’s spark, but he felt absolutely no inclination to do so. “What’s your name?” he asked, flicking his optics up and down the flame-colored frame.

“Hot Rod,” the small Autobot said, inclining his helm.

A smile tugged at Deadlock’s lips. How fitting. He bowed as much as possible without hurting his abdomen. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

His brow furrowing, Hot Rod huffed and put his hands on his hips. “Charmed, I’m sure,” he grumbled. He glanced over Deadlock’s shoulder, jutting his chin out. “Now go.”

Deadlock turned his head enough to see that the cruisers were beginning to take off. When he turned back to Hot Rod, the medic was already gone.

As he hobbled back to the ships, a small smile tugged at Deadlock’s lips. _Hot Rod._

\--

Three times since then, Deadlock spotted Hot Rod repairing fallen Decepticons on the battlefield. The fourth time, it had appeared that someone had caught on.

Deadlock had been grappling with a blue Autobot when a familiar paint job caught the corner of his eye. He’d been approaching an injured ‘con with caution, but evidently not enough, since the downed mech was able to flip his body over fast enough to pin Hot Rod’s much smaller frame to the ground.

He wasn’t sure what came over him, but in an instant, Deadlock cut free from his enemy, leaving them injured but alive, and sped toward the other Decepticon and Hot Rod, trapped against the ground with a blade to his throat. Before he could even nick the Autobot’s neck, Deadlock had blasted him in the head.

Hot Rod let out a screech, arms flying up to cover his face as energon and processor parts splattered across his front. Deadlock almost laughed as he kneeled down over the medic. “Told you that you were an easy target,” he chuckled.

The Autobot peeked out from between his arms. Despite the fact that a very dangerous Decepticon warrior still hovered over him, Deadlock could’ve sworn he heard Hot Rod let out a small breath of relief. “You,” he said simply.

Deadlock stood, and this time it was him who offered a hand. He couldn’t help but grin. “Me,” he replied with a chuckle.

To Deadlock’s surprise, Hot Rod actually took his hand, and the mercenary nearly forgot to pull him up. When he did, it was a bit too forcefully - he hadn’t expected for the mech to be so light - and he ended up pulling the Autobot right up to his chest.

He was… really warm. Deadlock could feel heat radiating from the other’s chest, hotter than normal. It was a sharp contrast to his own frame, which he felt might be cooler than it should be. Their chassis practically flush together, Deadlock could also feel Hot Rod’s spark beginning to spin faster, his own falling in tandem as he gazed into the depths of those ocean eyes.

Hot Rod was the first to pull away, seemingly shaking himself out of a stupor. Deadlock, on the other hand, was still, not having moved an inch. Hot Rod said, “You didn’t have to do that,” looking off to his left. 

“I know,” Deadlock said, voice gruff, but with a hint of surprise, as if he was shocked by himself.

Hot Rod turned back with a small smile, and Deadlock faltered. What was about this mech that made him feel so strange?

“Deadlock,” he blurted out. “I’m Deadlock.”

The medic’s smile grew. “Deadlock,” he repeated. “Thank you.”

He transformed, and once again sped off in the opposite direction, leaving a conflicted Deadlock in his dust.

\--

The seventh time Deadlock saw Hot Rod, he followed him home.

Neither side was letting up, so both set up base on the same planet, so he felt little apprehension of being deserted. When the Autobots retreated for the time being, Deadlock carefully, stealthily followed the hot rod back to camp.

Although he knew that the location of the Autobot base would be fantastic intel to report back to his commander, he… didn’t really feel like doing so. Plus, that wasn’t his intention of following the medic home anyway.

Deadlock closely monitored the comings and goings of the base from his crouch behind the plant life surrounding it. He wasn’t a big fan of organic planets, but he had to admit, the lush foliage made excellent cover.

Unfortunately, whenever Deadlock would spot Hot Rod leaving the base, he was always chatting away with someone, usually in the form of a yellow minibot. He was fully aware that he could just sneak up on them and take out Hot Rod’s friend, but he was pretty sure that wouldn’t make much of a case for him.

What kind of case was he trying to make, anyway? Deadlock hadn’t followed him just to sneak around and spy on him, but he hadn’t really thought of what he actually hoped to accomplish.

When Hot Rod finally exited the building by himself, Deadlock’s finials perked up, and he observed closely as the smaller went into the forest.

The fauna was much too dense to drive through, which Deadlock actually saw to his advantage: it’d be much easier to follow Hot Rod on foot, where he could be quiet and stealthy, than in alt mode, in which he’d be heard coming.

He followed Hot Rod until the mech came to a clearing, mostly taken up by the rocky pool of a massive waterfall and its ensuing river. He sat down near its edge, watching the water crashing and flowing and foaming.

“You can come out, you know,” he called. Deadlock froze, eyes widening. How…? No. Maybe he’d figured out that someone was following him, but there was no way he’d know it was-

“Deadlock. I know it’s you. Please come out?”

Caught, the Decepticon sighed and straightened. As he emerged from the forest, he spread his palms apart in an imploring gesture. “How’d you know it was me?”

Hot Rod turned to face him, smiling brighter than Deadlock had ever seen anyone smile. He stopped walking, and the smaller mech just grinned wider. “I figured out you were following me as soon as I entered the forest. Caught a glimpse of those finials.” Deadlock ducked his head, face heating a little. How embarrassing… 

“I’m not sure why you’d gone through so much effort to track me back to base and then follow me so deep into the forest, though. I know that if you wanted to kill me, you’ve had plenty of chances before. Care to enlighten me?”

With a sigh, Deadlock walked over to stand beside where Hot Rod sat, arms crossed defensively over his chassis. He shrugged sharply. “I dunno. I just…” When he looked down to see the Autobot staring up at him expectantly, he sighed and sat down, staring into the cascading water. “I don’t know. You…” He bit his lip, one small fang poking out. “You’re interesting.”

Hot Rod’s smile turned quirky, almost into a smirk. “Interesting how?”

“I don’t know!” Deadlock huffed exasperatedly, covering his face with his hands.

The Autobot scooted a bit closer to him. “You interest me, too,” he murmured.

Feeling the smaller mech’s heat against his side, Deadlock stilled. He dropped his hands and turned, all to have his gaze parallel to Hot Rod’s, face to face, and watched the rushing water reflected in those ocean eyes.

“I’ve never met anyone like you,” Deadlock whispered, nearly inaudible.

Hot Rod, however, still heard. He grinned and leaned even closer, optics fluttering. “Me neither,” he breathed, and Deadlock felt the words whisper over his lips.

“This is wrong,” Deadlock growled, more of a statement than a warning. All the business of following Hot Rod around could easily be explained away, but this? There was no coming out of this if he got caught.

“I know,” Hot Rod murmured, and pressed his lips to Deadlock’s.

**Author's Note:**

> Most of this was written while I was exhausted and sick but whatever!! It's not a very serious fic.


End file.
